Reporting for Duty
by See No Dum-Dums
Summary: My version of how Vincent and Lucrecia first met. Vincent's still not emo, and Lucrecia's well... guiltridden. But I hope they make a cute first meeting.


_Disclaimer: I own not the Turk that would someday get experimented upon and stucked in a coffin and become the king of emo. And for that matter, I also do not own the pretty girl wearing a lab coat who would end up birthing a psychotic villain and sealing herself in a creepy crystal within a creepy cave. Neither do I own the multi-million dollar company who turned millions of people into rabid fans._

_Which, of course, is another way of saying that I do not own Vincent or Lucrecia or Square-Enix._

* * *

**Reporting for Duty**

I don't believe it.

I am Vincent Valentine, and modesty aside, I am one of the best around. I have even worked with Veld, who _is_ the best around, on missions - dangerous missions, missions that only Turks of our caliber could handle.

That's why I don't believe it.

But then, they rationalize by saying that this JENOVA project is groundbreaking work, one that could possibly propel Shinra to heights that until now men could only dream of achieving. Eternal glory and renown. Immeasurable power. Supremacy.

And this task is to be undertaken by three scientists.

Of course, I have no doubts regarding Professor Gast. He is a brilliant mind; everyone knows that. But this Hojo... a mean-looking runt, when I first saw him around HQ. I do not trust him. And this Dr. Crescent...

I don't even know this Dr. Crescent.

This Dr. Crescent, to whom I have been assigned as a bodyguard.

_Bodyguard._

I don't believe it.

I am willing to bet that I have been assigned to an old geek crone who derives pleasure in obtaining the value of _pi_ up to a hundred decimal places. And she must be sixty years old, with loose muscles on her arms, a wrinkled face, and ridiculously large eyeglasses. That, or a freckled, chipmunk-toothed girl with rididculously large eyeglasses. Believe me; stereotypes do work most of the time. Though of course that is no reason for me not to be civil. So I put on my best suit, comb my neat black hair, and wear my professional game face (while trying not to scowl so much). But then, it doesn't mean I'll enjoy this mission either.

* * *

I have never met anyone from the Turks before. 

Nor do I want to, but the entire Department - scratch that, the entire comany, rather - insisted on assigning one for our "protection". Hmmm. For all I know, they just want to keep an eye on us - but let us not be hasty.

So, the Turks... The way they are described - the way people talk about them - makes my very blood curl.

Ah, but you're a very scientific person, Dr. Crescent, no matter what your colleagues may say, laughing about your Omega thesis like that...

...But... my eagerness to prove them wrong-...

...Where was I again? Oh, yes. So let's apply the scientific method.

Observation: I have never met a Turk before. Yet I've heard people say that Turks are bloodthirsty killers, bereft of all morals, and are crude philistines. The way people talk about them, one would think that they speak of monsters.

Hypothesis: If so, the Turks must be a horrifying set of individuals.

Experiment: Hmmm, I shall meet a Turk later. We shall see.

Conclusion: None yet. A scientist must not be close-minded, even though he or she may have suspiscions.

Hmmm. And of course, even if I were to meet a monster, I would not present myself covered in grime and soot and all that. So I take a good bath, wear my best attire under my lab coat (yes, I am proud to be a scientist), and act as civilized and cultured as I can. But that does not mean that I am looking forward to this meeting. Oh no, not at all.

* * *

"V-Vincent V-Valentine reporting f-for duty, Ma'am. I-I've been assigned for y-your p-protection." 

I don't believe it.

_"Oh no."_

HQ should have sent profiles and photos before assigning us a mission, really.

_"Why would they sent his..."_

Is this Dr. Crescent?

"Huh?"

_...son? Dr. Grimoire's son?_

She is... pretty. By Odin, she is pretty.

_But he is... handsome._

Oh, no. I am getting tense. Come on now, Vincent, recall your Turk training. Work under pressure. Divert the attention...

"Excuse me?"

_Oh! How cruel to haunt me like this! In his son... his good-looking son... his well-groomed, well-mannered son..._

_"I apologize. This is the first time I have ever met anyone from the Turks."_

I stand corrected. Perhaps stereotypes don't work after all.

_Hmmm. But maybe Turks aren't such monsters after all._

_"Lucrecia Crescent. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Valentine."_

"The pleasure is all mine."

Perhaps this mission won't be so bad after all.


End file.
